


Gladiator

by SpaceAsthmatic



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms
Genre: Bar Fight, Brotp, Family, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Fist Fight, Freindship, Older Gimli, Protective Legolas, Valinor, lost family, meetings, reunited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-08-26 10:50:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16680229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceAsthmatic/pseuds/SpaceAsthmatic
Summary: Oropher and Legolas meet in Valinor, and it doesn't go very well at first.





	1. Chapter 1

The sword was flung from one's hand and landed several feet away; the top of the others rested in the hollow of his neck. Both froze.

"Dead."

The small crowd of clustered elves cheered, and the opponent holding the sword dropped it with a laugh, offering the other a hand up. The loser returned to the crowd with a well-meaning threat of a rematch.

Oropher had to admit he was curious; there was enough of them in training clothes that it was obvious this had been a training session at some point. Yet this was the third sparring match in a row he had seen the blond elf win with someone who was obviously not apart of the training group.

There was something about him that reminded him painfully of his son, Thranduil, who as far as Oropher was able to tell was still alive in Arda somewhere. Alive with a son of his own. A son who had succeeded where he himself had failed to save Arda from the treachery of the ring and its master.

It was hard to imagine Thranduil with a son of his own; he had been so young during the Battle of the Last Alliance.

"Who's next to die?" The elderly dwarf asked, the very one he had been trying his best to ignore. There was a reason he did not often come to this side of the island. Besides the fact it was populated largely with the Feanoriens and the like.

The only reason he was here now was that he had accompanied a friend to get smithing help from Celebrimbor.

The rest of the crowd seemed to like the dwarf though and they all laughed heartily, and another emerged from the crowd to fight the tall, strong elf in the center. This match did not last much longer than the last before another calm and even:

"Dead."

Rang out across the silent space.

A warrior this good was not just from practice, but necessity. Oropher had seen elves like this before, they were the most dangerous kind of opponent to face. Because often they were taught to survive and learning to fight, and to fight well, was only part of the numerous teaching that came with that.

He had to admire the strength in which the elf had been raised, whoever had raised him.

At first, he assumed it was perhaps another son of Elrond's' he did not know about, this was technically his land after all and there was a rumor that he there had been three sons for a time in Imladris. It would make sense.

But now that he had seen the twin sons with his own eyes, there was no way the three had been raised by the same hand.

"Dead."

There was a quality about this gladiator that also reminded Oropher of his Silvan elves, with their quick laughs and chaotic minds. There was also an air of mischief or wildness about the victor that Oropher had never seen among the Noldor before.

The blond flung his opponent's sword into the branches of an overhead tree with the tip of his own, and help his hand expectantly outwards to the right. Oropher watched as the branches seemed to take a moment to aim before releasing it back again.

"That's cheating!" The one on the ground yelled, one of Elrond's twins.

He had also never seen a tree have such a strong connection to any but a Silvan before, especially not one so strong.

The one still standing just laughed even more merrily, if possible and the branches shook above him as the tree joined in with his joy. "I would have won anyway."

"That doesn't make it not cheating."

"I never said it did," He might have said more, but the one twin scrambled to his feet and ran headfirst for his middle, tackling him to the ground.

Oropher decided it was time to check and see if his friend was finished with their work yet, and turned away from the crowd, ignoring the continued cheers from them.

...OoOoOoOoO...

The entire market was awash with color and light, brightening the already glowing faces. Occasionally fireworks cracked overhead in various impossible scenes and forms, a sign that Mithrandir had truly returned to these shores.

Oropher had heard many things about the eclipse festival held by the Feanoriens on the other side of the island from where those from Doriath had settled.

It happened every 50 years, and he had neglected to attend the last one and his reincarnation had just missed the one before that.

But this time he had decided to come. For curiosity's sake.

"I hope the dwarf is not here." One of his friends mumbled as they settled at a table with plates heavy with food.

"I cannot believe the Valar let one into these shores." Another agreed.

Many of those from Doriath and now in Aman had come from the fall of their city at the hands of the dwarves.

"Leave it." He heard an elf say to his companion at the table next to theirs.

But Oropher's companions had heard it just as well as he; and while he was content to continue observing the dancers his friends were not.

They smelt blood in the water and a fight in the air, and with the wine, in their blood, it seemed a better idea than usual. Especially over dwarves.

The two exchanged mischievous looks, "Dirty, rotten, horrible creatures dwarves. Eru should have crushed them all beneath the mountain Aule hid them under."

Oropher rolled his eyes and ignored them. It was unlikely the elf at the other table would do something, he was young Oropher could sense. Much younger than he and his companions.

Inexperienced.

"I agree, perhaps we should toss him back in the ocean and see if he floats or sinks like the rocks he eats.."

The laughed together as the elf from the other table turned around, eyes ablaze and Oropher realized they both might be in over their heads.

It was the gladiator from years before.

"Uh oh." Another from the other table muttered to their third companion, his identical brother. Elrond's twins.

"If any of you lay a single hand on Gimli I will cut off whichever limb it was and feed it to you. It is because of him that you can still live in this blissful land with no troubles except for those you seek yourself. He was apart of the Fellowship of the Ring and you owe him some respect."

They both laughed again, "What do you plan to cut them off with then, child? There are no weapons here."

"I don't need one."

One of his friends stood up and Oropher had to admit this was escalating faster than the thought it might, one of the twins dashed from the table. "Is that so?"

Oropher's other companion stood up as well, "Perhaps we should find the dwarf and test this theory."

The gladiator did not rise, but his voice was big enough, "I suggest you sit back down."

They laughed again, the first to stand asked: "Do you plan to make us?"

It was almost like watching two vipers sizing one another up.

The next few moves were fast enough that it as hard for even to Oropher to follow. He knew one of his companions had thrown the first punch, but the elf in the chair dodged it expertly, even while sitting.

He must have landed a hit with his leg because one of his friends crumpled to the ground and the other sprang to his friend's defense.

The gladiator dodged it just as well as the last and finally sprung to his feet himself, punching his opponent solidly in the throat and then the stomach, sending him sprawling and gasping for breath.

Both of his friends got back to their feet and dove for the mystery warrior without hesitation, and so Oropher got up as well. A fight between two disagreers was one thing, but two against one was not fair.

Before he could reach any involved in the scuffle the remaining twin dove in as well; either in an effort to separate the fighters himself or to assist his friend, it was hard to tell.

Reaching into the scarp he grabbed the closest of his friends, just as two more bodies dove into the scrimmage.

Thankfully, they seemed to be there to put a stop to it as well.

Another being with blond hair who he did not recognize as Glorfindel at first grabbed onto the twin, hauling him back. While Elrond grabbed onto the blond warrior, one arm clamped around his throat, restricting airflow and the other arm securely around his chest.

Together the three there to intervene dragged three of the four components away from each other. The twin stilled almost instantly, while the only unstrained one made another charge for the blond warrior still firmly in the grasp of Elrond.

The blond warriors struck out with his foot before Elrond had the chance to pull him away far enough and there was a loud crack as various parts of a face were broken.

Glorfindel released the twin and reached for Orophers second friend, pulling both his hands behind his back and out of the others reach, hissing, "You fool, you will not win. Even two against one. Stop it, for your pride's sake. This is supposed a fun and pleasant evening."

There was a tense moment of silence, the twin who had vanished earlier appeared once more. The blood from his friend's broken nose dropped onto the tile at their feet.

The first to attack seemed ready to try again and Elrond released his captive, "If you are so desperate to fight, go ahead. But take a good look at your friend first, I intervened for your safety. Not for his."

And they all did, his nose was noticeable broken but already his eye was twice the size he should be and Oropher would have been shocked if he could see anything at all from that side; probably a broken cheekbone. There almost seemed to be a missing tooth.

He didn't know why he said it, it seemed his mouth or his mind did it without his consent, "You are the one who brought him here."

To his credit, the warrior didn't move an inch, but there was something achingly familiar about those blue eyes and deathly expression. "Yes. I was. And I do not, and will not, ever, regret doing so."

There was another long silence.

"Is there going to be another problem?"

Oropher answered for his friends, "No."

"Then it was a pleasure to meet you all and I shall depart with a small reminder that I do not make empty threats. Enjoy the rest of your evening, and you might want to put some ice on that nose of yours." Elrond let his former captive storm into the crowd, the twins following after him soon after.

Elrond and Glorfindel exchanged a look.

"What?" Oropher snapped.

"If I were you," Glorfindel began carefully, "I would try and think of a way to mend fences with him over this issue."

"And stop speaking badly of Dwarves," Elrond added.

"Yes, that part is crucial."

The dropping of the blood on the tile continued and Elrond turned his attention to the source of it, "I could reset that for you, if you like."

"No." The word was probably meant to sound stern, but with the degree of swelling already he just sounded drunk.

"Suit yourself."

"And why would I want to do any of that?" Oropher asked, the warrior was fierce no doubt but he did not seem the type to start a fight. He was perfectly fine to ignore the existence of another elf, it did not bother him.

"Well, you see," Elrond laced his hands together diplomatically, "Because that was Legolas. Your Grandson."


	2. Chapter 2

“Legolas.”    
  
“Yes.”    
  
He rolled the name around in his head. He had heard of his grandson certainly, there was scarcely an elf anywhere that had not heard of him.    
  
He had just not realized he would be meeting him so soon.    
  
“My grandson.”    
  
Glorfindel and Elrond exchanged another look, and Glorfindel also laced his fingers together in a mirror image of Elrond, “Yes.”    
  
Of course he knew those eyes, and that expression that could turn the unprepared to stone. He had spent every single day of his life since Thranduil learned to speak arguing with it.    
  
Even the morning of the day he died they had fought. The moment he ordered the charge, Thranduil had tried to hold them back and convince him otherwise but he did not listen.    
  
It had been the death of him, and two-thirds of his people.    
  
But not his son. Not Thranduil.    
  
Yes, if there was anyone left in Arda that could have raised that formidable elf it would be Thranduil. He would have accepted nothing less from the universe.    
  
Elrond cleared his throat, “King Oropher?”   
  
‘King’ as if that title meant anything here. Kings seemed to die and sprout like weeds throughout history. There were but two royalty that survived everything.    
  
His son and his grandson.    
  
Legolas.    
  
“Orpher?” Glorfindel asked, louder and less formal. He had never been one for formalities.    
  
They exchanged another look and Oropher became aware that his friends must have left at some point. Probably to seek medical attention.    
  
He had not noticed a single mark on Legolas.    
  
His grandson.    
  
“He brought the dwarf?”    
  
“Gimli, yes. He was apart of the Fellowship of the Ring. It was either bring him or let Legolas fade in Arda.”  Elrond said as Glorfindel glowered at the few elves who had lingered to stare.    
  
Apparently deciding that Elrond had not been quite direct enough, Glorfindel added, “Legolas would have rathered die than be parted from Gimli before he had to.”    
  
He had heard there was a dwarf on the fellowship. That was the problem with ‘hearing’ things. You were at the mercy of the details thought important and perspective of the speaker. And the speaker obviously didn't feel in necessary to mention this friendship. “Well, it certainly takes a fair bit of a confident attitude to bring him here.”    
  
“If there is anything Legolas has an excessive amounts of, it's attitude.” Glorfindel agreed. “If he can deal with Thranduil he can deal with anyone. Including you.”   
  
Elrond seemed to be showing a certain degree of delight at the entire situation now, “Oh, certainly.”    
  
“And if he doesn't get you, the dwarf will.” Glorfindel forced a laugh down with a cough, after the look on Oropher's face.    
  
“And if the dwarf doesn't I suppose you two will?” He crossed his arms.    
  
“Oh, no,” Elrond assured him.    
  
“Celebrian will.” With that, Glorfindel was unable to contain his laughter and he allowed it for a few seconds before composing himself again.    
  
He had met Glorfindel several times before either of their deaths, but never knew him particularly well. And honestly, he didn't know if this was normal behavior of it he was as drunk as Orophers own friends had been.    
  
There were so many questions he had, it was hard to choose where to start. “Where is he living?”    
  
Elrond cleared his throat again and Glorfindel gave him a sidelong glance, the two of them appeared to have grown exceptionally close since the last time Oropher had seen them. “With me, and my wife Celebrian.”    
  
“I see.”    
  
Did Legolas even look for him? Or ask? Did he even care?    
  
It was possible that he had no desire to meet his grandfather, a crushing thought but one with a good chance of being a reality. He had loved Thranduil, dearly, but the two of them have never been very good at getting along for extended amounts of time. They were too opinionated, often with opposing opinions. And too easy to anger.   
  
Maybe Thranduil had only told Legolas the bare minimum of information, maybe he had said only negatives. Worse yet, perhaps he said nothing at all.    
  
And now after this dwarf incident… it seemed possible that he had lost his grandson before even actually meeting him.    
  
Legolas.    
  
“How long?”    
  
“Approaching fifteen years.”    
  
“And Thranduil?”    
  
“Still in Arda with his people.”    
  
“I see.”    
  
Maybe Legolas thought that his grandfather knew he had arrived and did not care? Perhaps he was feeling the same way or similar to the way Oropher currently was, forgotten.    
  
“And what is a Silvan Prince doing living in a Noldor Lord's household?”    
  
Elrond blinked at him for several moments, like he did when he was holding back something he thought he ought not to say. Before the war when Gil-Galad was still alive, every time Elrond made that face and he witnessed it, he would corner him later at the very moment of opportunity to learn what thoughts he’d stifled.    
  
They had thought themselves subtle probably, perhaps they had been to some people but Oropher had always thought himself especially adept at observing those around him.    
  
Elrond's diplomatically folded hands clenched, but his voice did not, “He is being loved and cared for by those who have his best interest in heart.”    
  
“And that's you?”   
  
“I do not remember naming myself, but yes I am one of many”    
  
Glorfindel tossed long strands of gold hairs over his shoulder casually,  “I will name myself as one of the many, then. If you want specifics that badly.”    
  
“And what is in his best interest?” Oropher knew that he probably sounded hostile. He had been told many times, by many people, that often he presented that way. Whether he intended to or not.    
  
Another voice added itself unexpectedly to the mix, confident and warm. “Peace.”    
  
Oropher turned sharply to see another unexpected but much more welcomed face. “Celeborn!” His old friend smiled widely and approached the hug him tightly in welcome; it had been literal ages since he had last seen a childhood friend.    
  
“It is good to see you back once more among us, Oropher. I was not aware you had left the halls!”    
  
“It appears no one was aware. We ought to have a list posted somewhere.”    
  
“It would clear up a significant amount of confusion.” He looked over to Elrond and Glorfindel, “I must admit when I heard your two had been in a fight I had not expected it to be with Oropher.”    
  
That small glow of delight reappeared around them both once more, “Not us.” Elrond clarified, “Legolas.”   
  
“Oh!” Celeborn's eyes went wide and he himself seemed to struggle against a laugh, “Oh my. Well, that is certainly, something.”    
  
“How articulate of you.” Oropher commented, “and not with I, with Beurn and Loerum.”    
  
“They lost,” Glorfindel added. “Wouldn’t even let Elrond reset his nose for him.”    
  
Celeborn's winced in sympathetic pain, “What did you do to him?”    
  
“You assume it was me?” Oropher crossed his arms again.   
  
Celeborn laughed, “Yes, I do. Legolas is about as hostile as a newly hatched bird, he is, however, incredibly protective.”     
  
“They threatened Gimli, if Elrohir's report was correct,” Glorfindel answered when Oropher took more than a second to get to it himself.    
  
“Yes, that would do it. Come, my old friend, let us go for a walk and talk. I’m sure you have many questions.”    



	3. Chapter 3

Although his mind continued to swim with questions, Celeborn allowed him the dignity of sorting himself and his thoughts first. Elrond and Glorfindel left with a hushed promise to return to this spot later.

 

And so Oropher allowed himself wander somewhere a bit more private. Which, according to Celeborn, apparently, meant climbing onto the the roof of a building that did not belong to him. 

 

The view was spectacular and the breeze refreshing. 

 

They sat in silence for a while longer, comfortable and relaxed. “It is good to see you.” Celeborn said. 

 

“It is good to see you, too.” 

 

“So.”

 

“Legolas.” 

 

“Ask.” 

 

How could he pick what to ask, when he knew nothing at all? But his mind and his tongue had gotten a taste of freedom and spoke without his consent once more. “Did he look for me?” 

 

Did Thranduil mention him? Did Legolas care?

 

“Always.” 

 

Oropher frowned at him, he disliked vagueness. Perhaps that was why Thranduil was so painfully forward. 

 

“Always he listens for rumors, or stories of family members he has never met. Always he asks elves from other cities if they have any information. Any idea. Even before he got to these blessed shores.” 

 

It had been a while since four sentences had brought him such measurable comfort. His grandson had looked. He wanted to find him. 

 

“He has no family by blood alive apart from Thranduil.” 

 

Oropher blinked in surprise again, and while Glorfindel and Elrond had not noticed his shock Celeborn did. And he laughed. “Valar, I forget you make that ridiculous face.” 

 

“None?” That was the thing about eternal life, elves tended to have large families. Even if they did not like most of them, they existed. 

 

Celeborn shook his head, “None.” 

 

“No wonder Thranduil raised him to be so formidable.” 

 

All they had was each other to support and rule. How lonely that would be.

 

Celeborn laughed again, “If anything Legolas raised himself to be so, and demanded Thranduil help. I mentioned he is protective, and he never had any intention of leaving his father.” 

 

There was a unique ache in his heart. Perhaps if he had not been so prideful and charged too soon he would have survived, perhaps Thranduil could have stayed unaware the weight the crown rested with, perhaps his grandson wouldn't have to be an unstoppable warrior, perhapes Legolas could have been raised by a family. 

Perhapes, perhapes, perhapes. 

 

“What is he like?” 

 

Celeborn looked out over the streets teeming with people, light and laughter. “He is many things and people, all at once. Depending who you are and how he knows you.” 

 

“How does he know you? How do you see him?” 

 

“I don't know if he thinks of me as an old friend of his father's, or the grandfather of his dear friends. Either way I do not know him as well as many.” 

 

“Then what do you know?”

 

“I know he is the kind of soul that would stay until the bitter end and decay of mortal life, because he loved his friends. I know that he is the first person my beloved Arwen spoke to after the passing of Aragorn. I know he fought and survived the frontlines of an assault that lasted centuries.” 

 

Centuries. Centuries of fighting and loss. 

 

“I know that his laugh is so loud it echoes even in the woods, I know that just his presence near them delights the tree’s. I know that he helped teach Arwen both her archery and her dance. I know that as far as my grandsons are concerned he might as well be a third twin.” 

 

“But I also know that he has been through a lot of pain and suffering, of the body and of the mind. I also know that he would never have made it this far without Gimli.” 

 

“Who my wonderful companions nearly threatened to drown.” 

 

Celeborn winced, “He also has his father's temper.” 

 

How cruel a joke of the Valar to play. Allow him to finally meet his grandson, only to ruin the chance before he even knew what was being offered. 

 

Celeborn bumped his arm, “Take comfort that he doesn't hold grudges like his father, at least.” 

 

Oropher finally looked away from the dancing lights and back to Celeborn, “So I still have a chance?”

 

“You will have to swallow your pride down to your toes and apologize.” 

 

Oropher offered his hands up in an empty gesture, “What pride?” 

 

“Well, you'll have to do better than that when you talk to Legolas.” 

 

Oropher shoved his arm gently, “Oh, who asked you anyway.” 

 

Celeborn laughed and righted himself and looked back out across the market. “For the record, Legolas asked to live with Elrond and Celebrian. He was … unwell in all aspects when he arrived.” 

 

“And now?” 

 

“He is certainly better, it is good to see him laugh again. But his heart will not know peace I fear until several decades after Gimli's passing. His life is haunted with the ticking of mortal life.” 

 

Celeborn thought about it, “He will also not know peace until Thranduil finally arrives upon these shores, either.” 

 

“So he is coming, then?” 

 

“Yes.” Celeborn sounded certain, and that was reassuring, “He promised Legolas within three decades at the very latest. And he does not break promises to Legolas.” 

 

Oropher struggled against the clamp in his throat, he had fifteen years to decide what he was going to say to Thranduil. How he was going to apologize. 

 

It sounded dumb to ask, but he did anyway, “Thranduil loves him, then?” 

 

“More than all the earth we live upon and everything else on it. I cannot wait for you to see the two of them together.” 

 

He was glad, then, that Thranduil was able to have something he and his had never been able to. 

 

He loved Thranduil, there was absolutely no doubt about it in his mind. Everyday his heart swelled with pride at the thought of his son, at the astounding elf he had grown to be. At everything he had accomplished. 

 

“What do I do, Celeborn? How do I fix this?” 

 

“You go and apologize, the sooner the better.” 

 

**0o0o0p0o0o0o**

 

Elrond crossed his arms, “I will not surprise him with something like this. Absolutely not.” 

 

“So you plan to try and keep my grandson from me?” 

 

Before Elrond could snap a response Celeborn held a hand up between them for peace, “I understand Elrond, and I would ask you to do such a thing to the boy.” 

 

“I will compromise,” Elrond offered,  “I will tell Legolas that it is you that wants to speak with him, but I will not tell him that you already met you today.”

 

“Is that all?” Oropher asked, keeping his voice even and neutral. 

 

“No.” Celeborn hadn't really thought Elrond was done to begin with, “The very moment Legolas, Glorfindel or I say you need to leave, you will leave at once.” He held out his hand for Oropher to shake, “Those are the conditions, agreed?” 

 

Oropher galanced at it, “And if I do not agree? If I decide to go and find him this very moment? Then what?” 

 

Elrond tilted his head to the side slightly with a twinkle in his eys and did not retract his hand, “Then I offer you another deal. Then I will watch as someone, who, as far as Legolas is concerned at the momonet, has absolutlny no buisness being anywhere near himself or Gimli seeks him out for a second time in a night. When he already, and literally, broke your friends. I will watch as he breaks you too, assuming you mean harm to Gimli. And after that, when you tell him your are his Grandfather and his wounded heart cannot yet find any shred of forgiveness for many, many years. I will not say ‘I told you that would happen.” 

 

Elrond had the nerve to smile, “Which offer is more appealing to you? Waiting until tomorrow afternoon or trying your luck to see if I am right?” 

 

“I will see you tomorrow afternoon.” Oropher answered and turend away without shaking Elronds offered hand, he had never been a graceful loser. 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Oropher was about three hours early in his arrival, but he had seemed literally unable to keep himself away. He did not go towards the house he knew to be Elrond's, where he supposed Legolas currently was. 

 

 

His grandson. 

 

 

And so for lack of a better activity, he wandered towards the cluster of workshops, all filled with all sorts of different elves and crafts. On random he entered into the forge, it was always interesting to watch the amazing work the elven smiths could create. Especially if Celebrimbor was at work.  

 

 

In hindsight, his mistake was rather obvious. 

 

 

“You are not striking it with enough force! It is metal! It will not break!” In response, there was a more forceful banging. 

 

 

“The dwarf is right, Legolas.” A few more strikes, “A little more to the left.” 

 

 

He should walk away. He should. 

 

 

His eyes found where they were working, and his feet did not move an inch. 

 

 

The dwarf stood on a stool at Legolas’ side, using him as a sort of puppet now that his mortal bones were not strong enough to wield the force anymore. Celebrimbor worked next to them with the other hammer. 

 

 

“Yes, good!” The dwarf praised. 

 

 

He should walk away before Legolas saw him. He should wait for Elrond to introduce them. He should. 

 

 

But he couldn’t quite make himself do that, either. 

 

 

Celebrimbor removed whatever they were trying to make and cooled it, Legolas leaned against the table and wiped sweat from his head, “Well at least I’m getting better.”

 

 

“It's about time.” The dwarf replied. 

 

 

Somehow, Legolas laughed at the somewhat scalding tone, “A little appreciation would be nice.” 

 

 

“I already appreciate you, a little bit.” 

 

 

“Only a little bit?” 

 

 

“Get better at smithing and then maybe I will appreciate you more.” 

 

 

And then Legolas noticed him. And then he remembered Oropher from last night and every relaxed air around him vanished, and the dwarf turned to see what had startled him so much. 

 

 

Even Celebrimbor seemed to take notice. 

 

 

“Are you lost?” There was no friendliness in his voice, he stepped in front of the dwarf. 

 

 

Oropher hoped Elrond had already told him he was coming. “I apologize, I did not expect you to be here.” 

 

 

Celebrimbor glanced between the two of them looking a bit confused, “Were the two of you not discussing earlier that your grandfather was coming here today?” 

 

 

To Legolas’ credit he gave almost no reaction to this news. The dwarf, however, did, “Aren't you one of the one’s Legolas beat in about thirty seconds last night?” 

 

 

“Actually, you beat two people who I happen to know who happened to be around me at the time.” He addressed Legolas and not the dwarf. 

 

 

“I was the one that asked you the question, not the lad, thank you.” 

 

 

Oropher ignored him, “Oropher, former King of Greenwood. It is an honor to finally meet you, Legolas Thranduillion, I have heard much from many who do not know you well.” 

 

 

“Oh,” Celebrimbor said to nobody in particular, “I did not realize you had never met.” And then he returned to his work, no longer interested in the conversation. 

 

 

Legolas didn't even blink; the dwarf seemed to forget he was there entirely. He hopped off his stool and came to stand before Legolas, taking one of his hands. “Come on back now, lad.”

 

 

Outside, Oropher sensed the trees trying to convince him away, their collective will pulled at him like a weak magnet. 

 

 

He had anticipated many things upon their meeting, but this had never been one of them. 

 

 

The trees, angered at being ignored, sent a wave of emotion to him. But it was not the emotion of the tree’s, they felt things much differently than mortal things; this was distinctly borrowed from another elf. 

 

 

Panic gripped his heart like a vice, demanding to beat faster but seemingly unable to beat at all. A deep crushing weight seemed to sink everything else in his body to his feet, leaving a giant gaping hole where something, anything, should be. 

 

 

He was frozen with it. 

 

 

On the other side of the forge a door opened, he didn't look to see who it was until Glorfindel was ushering him away, “We told you to wait!” 

 

 

The trees removed the spell. 

 

 

Celebrian stood like a shining star in the dim room, right next to Gimli. 

 

 

He didn't understand. 

 

 

0o0p0o0p0p0o0

 

 

Glorfindel waited with him until Elrond got there, far away from the forge and wherever else they had whisked his grandson. 

 

 

He had tried to pry answers from Glorfindel, but he neglected to answer any of them claiming Elrond would be far better to explain. 

 

 

In reality, he probably waited only ten minutes. But it felt like days. 

 

 

When Elrond arrived he didn't say anything until he had seated himself comfortably in the grass, looking at Oropher expectantly to do the same. 

 

 

Oropher sat. 

 

 

“I am going to speak; and I ask that you do not interrupt until I am done. Can you agree to that?” 

 

 

Idly, Oropher wondered if Elrond had come up with this strategy of conversation to deal with Thranduil. 

 

 

He had never managed to get him to stop interrupting people. “Yes, I agree.” 

 

 

“Good. What do you know of sea longing?” 

 

 

Oropher contemplated pointing out that he agreed not to speak but thought better of it, “Nothing.” 

 

 

“In short, it is a pull from the Valar to return here. To Valinor. There are many of us who have seen the sea many times, and so it's song seems apart of us. Like the song of the trees or springs.” 

 

 

“But for many Silvan elves they have never seen the ocean, and neither have any of the recent ancestors. Their hearts have never heard the song, and when they do, it can cause havoc trying to find a place to call home within them. They were literally not made to feel it. Most never do, but those who do us it often as they are departing the mortal lands and so it troubles them not.”

 

 

Oropher knew well that there were many of his people who would never sail west, and would wait until Mandos was sent to collect them.

 

 

“The longer the song is within them, ignored, the more aware of it they become. The more it grows, the more it damages. And so, resisting it can have a devastating effect on one's mind, and soul.” 

 

 

“When I left Middle Earth, the longest known case of a Silvan Elf resisting the call was twenty years. At the time of Legolas’ sailing, he set the record at nearly two hundred.”  

 

 

“It takes time, and patience to recover from something like that, especially when the centuries beforehand were almost nothing but pain. It takes a very strong elf to even want to recover from something like that. And so I am asking you to be patient with him.” 

 

 

Oropher waited for him to continue, and when Elrond didn't he asked, “Did you even tell him I was coming?” 

 

 

Because he didn't know what to say. There really was nothing else he could say. Expressing his grief over the matter would accomplish nothing, and there were no other questions to ask for verification as Elrond had been as quick and concise as usual. 

 

 

“Yes, Celebrian and I talked with him last night about it. However, we were leaving it until today to tell him he has technically already met you, when I could he sure all of the wine in his system was gone.” 

 

 

“I see. Now what?” 

 

 

“Come back in three hours. Give Gimli and Legolas some time to talk, I know he will still want to meet you.” 

 

 

Oropher nodded, once, “Three hours then.” 

 

 

Elrond stood and began making his way back towards his house, Glorfindel made to follow but added, “And we mean three hours, Oropher. No less.”

 

 

He saw no point in responding. 

 

 

0o0o0o0o0o0o

 

 

Exactly three hours later Oropher walked down what he swore was the longest road he had ever walked. 

 

 

Legolas stood at the end of it, alone. 

 

 

Oropher stopped several feet away, to be safe, surprised that Elrond, Glorfindel or the Dwarf were not lurking nearby to monitor the situation. 

 

 

If he had no idea what to expect from this meeting after last night, he certainly didn't have any clue now. 

 

 

He looked so much like Thranduil it was surprising, Legolas smiled at him, “It is a pleasure to meet you.” 

 

 

Oropher found it easy to return it, “And you.” 

 

 

He could feel eyes on him and knew that even if he could not see them, Elrond and Glorfindel and probably the dwarf were watching from somewhere. 

 

 

He felt the need to apologize, “About what happened last night, I -”

 

 

But Legolas just shook his head, “There is no need for explanation. Elrond beat you to it.” 

 

 

“Perhaps that is for the best, I have been told that I am not very good at explaining things fully.” 

 

 

At this, Legolas laughed. And it was such a happy sound, not at all what he expected from the encounters he’d had so far. Innocent somehow, genuine in a way that was hard to find. “I'm used to Ada, sometimes I'm lucky to get a full sentence some times. I'm good at reading between in the lines. Or, in Ada's case finding the line.” 

 

 

“So he hasn't changed, then.” That was comforting somehow. 

 

 

“Probably not, no. About this morning-” 

 

 

This time it was Oropher who interrupted, “There is no need for an explanation. Unless you want to talk about it, in which case, you can, but-” 

 

 

“Elrond beat me to it?” 

 

 

“Yes.” 

 

 

“Perhaps that's for the best, I'm not good at explaining things.” 

 

 

They both laughed, “I sense a pattern.” 

 

 

“Would you like to go for a walk?” Legolas gestured toward a forest path, one Oropher assumed he walked often. 

 

 

He eyed the trees, “Do they like me again?” 

 

 

“Yes.” Legolas answered confidently, but still turned back to the trees, “Yes?” There was a flood of goodwill and welcome, Legolas turned back to him, “Yes.” 

 

 

“Then I would love too.” 

 

 

Legolas waited for him to reach him and then fell into step next to him, he hadn't grown taller than Thranduil which was nice. He hated having to look up at people when they talked. “Sorry about them, but I suppose you know how a forest can be.” 

 

 

“Oh, I know. The Greenwood always liked Thranduil better than I, and whenever we would argue they would drop acorns of berries on my head.” 

 

 

Legolas laughed again, he was surprised but not unhappy with how regular of an occurrence that seemed to be, “They still do things like that, they are also fond of tripping people now; they did it to me for weeks after I finally returned from the Ring War. Clearly, the Wood adapts to change as well as their King.” 

 

 

“Clearly.” 

 

 

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

 

 

Elrond’s family plus Glorfindel and Gimli were waiting at the front of the house for when they returned. Eight hours later and well after dark. 

 

 

Oropher departed down the word without coming to the house to say formal goodbyes, not that Elrond was particularly surprised. 

 

 

He came and sat between Celebrian and Gimli's chair, resting his head against the side of her knee. 

 

 

She combed her finger through his hair out of instinct, “How did it go, little one?” 

 

 

“Good,” Legolas answered easily, “He asked me to return with him when he leaves tomorrow.” 

 

 

To her credit, Celebrian's fingers did not still. Elrond knew his would have. 

 

 

He would never, ever, willfully keep Legolas from his family. But at the same time his concern for Legolas had hardly lessened since he had arrived on these shores and the thought of him travelling so far away, with those who did not know him well, was alarming to say the least. 

 

 

“And what was your answer,” Celebrian asked mildly. 

 

 

“Thank you, but no. I am happy living with my family here. I did ask him to write, though.” 

 

 

Celebrian, Elrond and Glorfindel shared a look of relief, and Celebrain leaned down to give her all but adopted third son a hug, and rested her head atop his. “We are always happy to have you.” 

 

 

“He said they have their own festival on that side of the island, something to do with crabs, and invited me to come next time it happens. Glorfindel, would you come?” 

 

 

The response was instant, “Yes. Of course.” 

 

 

Gimli was too old to be traveling such distances, plus, bringing a dwarf around Elves from Doriath was not the best idea either. 

 

 

“We'll come too!” The twins chimed in, together. 

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

It was late in the morning when Legolas finally appeared from his room and joined Oropher in the garden, he glanced up over the top of his book in time to watch Legolas climb over the railing of his balcony and down a tree rather than use the stairs inside. Not entirely surprising, he seemed to have an aversion to doing things normally. 

 

 

He sat in a chair across from his grandfather, “Goodmorning.” 

 

 

Oropher took careful note of his page and then closed his book, “Goodmorning, Legolas. You and the twins seem to have returned earlier than usual.” 

 

 

He himself had returned home a few hours past midnight, while he had heard the twins returning Legolas to the house hours before sunrise. The three of them got along well with the youth here in the city and all of them enjoyed the festival to the height of their abilities. Which, usually meant finding their beds in various places in the city at sunrise.

 

 

Apparently, Glorfindel had friends in the city where the three of them stayed, while Legolas always stayed with him in the room Oropher had set aside and tried his best to decorate in a way he hoped Legolas would like. He hadn’t complained about anything yet, so he could not have done too bad of a job at it. 

 

 

“Yes, we figured we ought to at least return before sunrise at least one day. That, and Elladan threw up in a bush.” 

 

 

“How noble of him.” 

 

 

Legolas smiled and shrugged, “At least it wasn’t your bush.” 

 

 

Oropher pushed a plate of various fruits towards Legolas, “Sometimes it is the small victories in life.” 

 

 

He picked a strawberry off the plate, and popped it into his mouth “Life after death, as the case may be.” 

 

 

“Perhaps if I found more appreciation of the little things, I would not have died in the first place.” 

 

 

“Or,” Legolas countered, grabbing a few blueberries, “You would have died twice as fast. It really is impossible to tell.” 

 

 

“Eru is funny that way.” 

 

 

“I think he is funny in many ways, but only to him. To us, it just seems a cruel irony.” He looked at the cover of the book Orpher had been reading, after finding it incredibly dull, he turned his attention to a small book filled with half scribbled pages. “Still working on your apology speech? For lack of a better word.” 

 

 

Oropher sighed and rubbed one of his temples, “Yes. It seems to me that I will never be through with it. Every time I write it, it sounds worse than before. I might as well be an illiterate swamp rat.” 

 

 

Legolas let out a surprised but delighted laugh, “Well, you’ve done very well for yourself as an illiterate swamp rat. 

 

 

“Thank you.” 

 

 

“That being said, I still don’t think you need to plan out an apology at all.” He grabbed another few blueberries, “But then, what do I know about dealing with your son? Practically nothing.” 

 

 

He tossed a few in the air and caught three out of four, looking only briefly at the dejected one on the ground before trying again. 

 

 

“You sound like Galion.” 

 

 

“Probably.” 

 

 

“If I don't need it, I don't need it. But in case I do, I will be prepared.” 

 

 

“Suit yourself.” 

 

 

Oropher watched as Legolas tried to catch the last of the blueberries. Touchingly carefree, considering the dark and cold he could sense in every part of Legolas’ soul, yet to be shaken. 

 

 

Those in Lord Elrond's home all claimed a noticeable difference already since Legolas had come to the shores. He wasn't sure if he found that more comforting or heart breaking. 

 

 

“What do you want to do today?” 

 

 

“That depends.” Oropher said, choosing a grape off of the plate and tossing it far into the air and catching it with his mouth to Legolas’ delight, “On how you are feeling today.” 

 

 

Both knew he didn't mean the wine. 

 

 

It was, taxing, to say the least to be one of the most well known elves in recent history. Famous but never infamous, which was significantly more than Oropher could say for most well known elves. 

 

 

He had long since guessed that was the real reason he had returned early last night. 

 

 

“Perhaps something outside the city…”

 

 

0o0o0o0o0o

 

 

 

“My Lord Oropher!” A young elf he did not recognize raced up to him, nearly skidding to a stop before him. “I am to tell you that you Legolas Thranduilion just arrived with all haste and needs to speak to you.” 

 

 

Oropher blinked in surprise. Legolas? Here? Their next visit was not supposed to be for several months, and even then it was his turn to travel the distance. Legolas had expressed concern and fear leaving the dwarf so late in his life, and so the last visit would be his last for some time. 

 

 

“He says it's an emergency.” 

 

 

His blood went cold. There were very little things that happened in Valinor to be considered an emergency, but the idea of what Legolas might consider one was almost haunting. Especially to travel the distance between them when there were so many who cared for him much closer. 

 

 

He had sounded fine in the letter Oropher had received just this week. Perhaps it was his sea longing. Perhaps the dwarf had died. 

 

 

“Where?” He demanded. 

 

 

“His room in your home, my Lord.” 

 

 

Not caring in the slightest who might be watching he broke into a sprint at a pace he had not set since long before his death, leaving the messenger in the middle of the street. Thanks to the swiftness of Elves he only nearly knocked over three of them on his way, but he did not slow enough to see exactly who it was. Just shouted an apology over his shoulder. 

 

 

He reached the steps to his home and took them three at a time, not bothering to even close the door behind him before he started on the indoor staircases. Legolas’ bedroom door was open and he all but spilled inside. 

 

 

His grandson was standing by the window and Oropher frantically looked him up and down, coming to stand before him and putting a hand against his face. 

 

 

He looked fine. He felt fine. His soul didn't feel in any form of distress. None of the trees were trying to get his attention. “Legolas, what's wrong?” 

 

 

Legolas’ own hand came up to rest against the one on his face and he smiled, “Nothing. I'm alright, I promise. Im sorry to have worried you so much but I wanted you to get here quickly.” 

 

 

Oropher looked him up and down, taking his hand back to turn his grandson in a circle just to make sure, he allowed it with a laugh. “Well, I’m here.” 

 

 

Legolas’ eyes strayed behind him and he indicated with his chin that he should turn and look. Before he managed a voice from a body he hadn't noticed was in the room with them in his frantic concern said, “Yes. So am I.” 

 

 

“Thranduil.”

 

 

His son. His beautiful, stubborn son. 

 

 

He was as taller and prouder than ever. So much older than when Oropher had left him, both in time and experience. He looked weary and tired. But strong, every ounce of stubborn strength Thranduil had as an infuriating young elf. 

 

 

Yes. This was an elf who could withstand and thrive for centuries at war. 

 

 

“Hello, Adar.” Thranduil's gaze flicked to Legolas for a moment and then back to his father. 

 

 

Oropher had carefully practiced what to say to Thranduil when him, but now that it had finally happened the only thing in his mind was the look of heartbroken terror on Thranduil's face as he died in his arms. “I'm so sorry, oh my son, I’m so sorry.” 

 

 

He hadn't meant for his voice to crack but he didn't have time to feel betrayed because his legs moved forward without him, Thranduil met him halfway. He crushed his son to him like he hadn't done since Thranduil was a small elfling, hand cradled behind his head and down his neck, the other one holding him tight. 

 

 

At least he wasn't the only one crying. 

 

 

“I'm so sorry for leaving you, I'm sorry I didn't listen, I'm sorry I'm a prideful idiot sometimes. I'm so proud of you, you've done so well. I am in awe of you.”

 

 

To his surprise Thranduil didn't hasten to pull away, “It's alright Adar. We all make mistakes. And yours were made in a world away, both time and distance.” 

 

 

Legolas’ voice drifted over from the window, “Told you.” Oropher got the distinct impression that he was talking to the both of them. 

 

 

“Yes well, you know as well as I that sometimes no matter how many times you tell the Greenwood royals anything, they must figure it out for themselves.” 

 

 

Thranduil and Legolas both laughed, potentially both at the words and the surprise on Orophers face. It was a foolish surprise, he should have known he would be here too. 

 

 

“Galion!” 

 

 

Thranduil stepped away and Oropher turned to where the attendant had looped his arms with Legolas as he gave the suggestion of a bow, “My Lord Oropher.” 

 

 

“When Thranduil told me he hired the same elf who had gotten fired for losing his temper and his tongue, I admit, I was worried. I didn’t think you would last the week.” 

 

 

Galion laughed, “He deserved it. Also, you had a right to worry.’

 

 

“Certainly, just not for the reasons I initially thought. It is good to see you Galion. Thank you, for everything you've done.” 

 

 

He nonchalantly tossed some dark hair over his shoulder, “No thanks necessary, I'm only here because Thranduil pays me.” Then he glanced over to Legolas, who bent at the knees so that he would not be taller, “And I love my little prince too much to leave him.”

 

 

“Yes, well, who could resist loving me?” Legolas asked and copied Galion by flicking hair over his shoulder. 

 

 

Oropher looked back to Thranduil, “You've raised an amazing son.” 

 

 

“He was amazing on his own, I just kept him from getting himself killed.” 

 

 

“No easy task, I've come to learn.” 

 

 

“No. It is not.” 

 

 

Legolas rolled his eyes, “And yet here I stand.” 

 

 

“Yes.” Thranduil looked at his son with the kind of open love and pride Oropher had painfully realized he had never been good with. “Finally, there you stand.” 

 

 

But he could learn. 

 

 

“I'm returning home tomorrow, but Ada sa-”

 

 

Oropher cut him off, “I'll go with you.” 

 

 

Legolas turned a grin to Thranduil, “Told you.” 

 

 

“Lady Yavanna is growing us a home to live in, her own offer, it might be done by the time we return. I'm sure our people will be thrilled to have most of their rulers under one canopy again.” Thranduil added. “As long as you can stand to live under the same tree’s as a dwarf.”

 

 

“For my family? Anything.” Then he added with a look in Legolas’ direction, “Besides. I guess the dwarf isn't that bad.” 

 

 

“At least we'll be easier to find when the rest of our family is released from the halls.” Legolas added, “So I don't break any of their friends faces on accident. Well, not technically on accident…” 

 

 

Oropher tried to suppress a smile but failed in light of hearing Thranduil's laugh again after so long, “I am still so disappointed I missed that.” 

 

 

“He is still a bit scared of you, you know.”

 

 

Legolas smirked, “Good.” 

 

 

 

0o0o0o

 

 

Thank you for reading and every nice thought and comment I got along the way!!! 

 

I can't wait to hear your final thoughts. 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please remember to leave me a comment!!!


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